


The Ocean Born Witcher

by LilithLucian



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Drama & Romance, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Love Triangles, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Plot, Smut, headcannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithLucian/pseuds/LilithLucian
Summary: A strange friendship and romance blooms between Geralt of Rivia and another, younger Witcher, leading to years of scattered nights spent and monsters killed together. All seems well, until the defeat of the White Frost. The monsters return in force, causing Aiden of Skellige to recreate The Trial of the Grasses to save mankind.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 11
Kudos: 12





	1. First Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> So we are starting right at the beginning with Geralt and Aiden beginning their journey. I'm using a combination of the books, the series and the Witcher 3 cannon to create this work with the Witcher 3 and the Series as the main cannon. The name for this fic may change as I am still bouncing ideas and finally, please kudos, review and make my day! All feedback will be appreciated! Enjoy chapter 1!

The road was quiet, tranquil even, as the young Witcher trainee, Aiden of Skellige, rode his favourite steed out of the gates of Kaer Morhen. The day was uncomfortably hot as the setting sun seeped into his blond hair and burned his pale skin. The twin blades strapped to his back scorched him through his clothes. His stallion's hooves churned dust into the air with each step as they travelled the same road that Geralt of Riva had earlier that day.

The sun had begun to dwindle as it sank as Aiden rode, casting long shadows over him and the horses. The air around them cooled and he pulled the tie out of his hair while a soft breeze began to dry his sweat-drenched skin. He was tempted to rest his eyes for a moment as the hours dragged on but just as he allowed his lashes to touch, he heard the sound of panting and heavy, frantic footfalls emerging from further up the road.

Three men, dressed in worn and tattered leather armour, burst forth from around a bend in the road. One caught his foot on a rock, falling flat on his face and the other two tripped over their friend. Panicked, all three men casting quick and terrified glances back towards where they’d come from. Aiden slowed the horses to a gentle stop. Something had clearly frightened the shit out of these men.

His throat tightened. The road out of Kaer Morhen was notorious for being roamed by many a nasty beast, but whatever these three men had encountered had been fast. They hadn’t even drawn their swords from their hips.

He kept his focus sharp, waiting for the beast to come barrelling toward all of them. What happened instead, he could not have expected; the three men looked up at him and scrambled to their feet, drawing their swords.

"Hey, you!" One yelled as he stood on trembling legs. "Come on,” he demanded, “give us the horses and we won't cause you any trouble!” Aidan merely stared at him and so he went on, “There's a terrible creature back there!"

Aiden dismounted slowly, opting not to draw his sword; he hoped that the men would listen to reason. He could tell that they were not skilled fighters. One man was too skinny to effectively swing a broadsword and instead, he held a long, thin blade that would sooner pick Aiden's teeth than slide between his ribs. Another was thrice Aiden's size and strong enough to swing a battle-axe twice the size of Aiden's broadsword but that didn’t mean he knew how to use it.

"So,” Aiden began, “you'd take my horses and leave me to die?” The men remained silent, though they cast glances at one another. “I think that would cause me a great deal of trouble."

The same man opened his mouth to respond but a shrill scream echoed through the forest interrupted him. Another scream snapped them from their stupor and all three raised their weapons, pointing them at Aiden. He could see their desperation and took hold of his steel sword and tilted his head as his blue eyes narrowing in anger.

"You left a woman back there," Aiden growled as the heavy blade slid effortlessly from its sheath. "You don't want this, I promise you. Keep running,"

"Fuck you," The verbose man spat before he yelled and broke into a run, barreling toward Aiden. As he neared, he slashed at his chest and Aiden ducked, steel swishing above his head. Raising his own sword up, Aiden slashed across the man's belly, silencing him forever.

Guts and blood tumbled to the ground, coating Aiden. He straightened up and looked into the dying bandits' dull eyes as the body hit the dirt with a dull thud.

The skinny one let out a roar, alerting Aiden to the next oncoming attack. He swung his needle-like weapon but it was met with the hilt of Aiden's sword as he deflected the blow over his left shoulder. Stepping forward, Aiden shoved him backward, then pivoted around his skinny body. Once behind, Aiden swung his sword and drove it through the back of the man’s head, impaling him.

The third and final bandit lumbered forward, his boots crunching heavily in the dirt. Aiden whirled around, pulling his sword free of the second man's skull as the axe swung for him. Before it could meet its mark, however, Aiden's sword had been embedded in a fatty, beating heart, the tip of his blade protruding from the middle of a beefy shoulder blade. The heavy weapon fell from the man’s limp hand.

Aiden sighed softly, standing up and looking around him. The forest had gone silent again now that the skirmish had ended. It appeared that tranquillity had been restored, if only for a moment.

Aiden inhaled deeply and began to take a step forward but, before his boot could meet the ground, he felt a gust of air to his left. Not a second later, a small knife had sunk between his ribs. A cry left his throat as he grabbed the hilt, just barely keeping it from sinking deep enough to puncture his lung.

Blue eyes met brown eyes and Aiden was faced with a boy, no older than sixteen. With a grunt, he said, “You must be with them.” The boy didn’t respond but he did try to force the blade further into Aiden’s body.

"They'd be proud," Aiden said before yanking the blade from his side and twirled it around on his attacker, plunging it deep into the boy's sternum.

He let the boy's body fall to the ground and moved back, looking over the carnage. Their blood pooled over the ground as Aiden watched with wide eyes. He realized that he’d just killed for the first time. He felt drained but another scream filled the air and Aiden was jolted from his fatigue. Whatever was on the other side of the bend was not going to wait for him to gather himself.

"Fuck." He grabbed his sword, which was still lodged inside the large bandit, flesh squelching as the blade was pulled free from the man, and he ran toward the sound.

Once he finally rounded the corner, he gasped. The sight that he was met with was far more surprising than horrifying. Geralt had a disgusting man, huge with not a hair on his head, bleeding against the sharp edge of his steel blade. The man fell and the woman wailed in revulsion as blood cascaded over her, matting her hair to her skin. The stench of vomit filled the air as she wretched all over Geralt's shoes.

Ignoring this, he stepped back as the girl's father raced over to her and yanked her to her feet, dragging her behind him. They sprinted down the road that Aiden had just come from, and a final shrill scream could be heard before they were gone for good. Aiden and Geralt were left standing, surrounded by pools of blood.

"No Kikimora or Griffin then,” Aiden surmised. “Just good old Geralt saving a damsel in distress." Aiden sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Vesemir will be horrified that you’re playing the White Knight, not more than that woman is, I'm sure."

"Horrified that she didn't get raped?" Geralt spat blood from his mouth.

Aiden sighed and turned to retrieve the horses. As he approached, he let his hand drop from his wound, wincing at the sharp pain. He returned his sword to its sheath on his back and made his way back to Geralt.

"She clearly believes that she’d met an even more frightening monster tonight." Aiden looked around them. "You missed four, by the way."

"The ones that ran?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Geralt sheathed his sword and looked Aiden over, his yellow eyes studying the younger Witcher for a long moment. "We’d best get those ribs bandaged."

Aiden nodded. "Yes, and I want a fucking bath."

"No baths around here."

"No, but there is a river."

"Now you're asking for Drowner blood."

"I imagine you wouldn’t mind killing a monster that requires a silver blade next." Aiden could not help but smirk as Geralt paused. He was sure that Geralt was weighing the idea of a bath versus the opportunity to kill monsters in his mind.

"Geralt, we're covered in blood and sweat. A bath is a good idea, come on." Aiden took hold of his stallion's reigns and lead the horses off the road, down through the forest with Geralt and Roach not far behind.

The river ran fast and hard, the water glistening pink and blue as the sun set through the tall trees of the forest. Aiden tethered his stallion and Letho's mare to a tree. Stroking his black beasts' white blaze, he turned to Geralt.

"I know you name all yours ‘Roach,’ but do you have any idea what I could call this one?" Aiden asked as Geralt tied his mare to a tree not four feet away from Aiden's horses.

"Roach," Geralt answered gruffly as he removed Roach's saddle and placed it on a fallen tree trunk which lay close by.

"Geralt-" Aiden turned and gave the white Witcher a tiresome look.

"Name the stallion Roach," Geralt insisted and Aiden heaved a sigh.

"I don't like cockroaches," Aiden muttered, shaking his head.

"We kill monsters for a living and you don’t like cockroaches?"

"Yes, I don't like fucking roaches,” he defended. ”Think of something else."

Geralt raised a brow at Aiden. "Hmmm…” he hummed before his expression changed. “Fuck."

Aiden bristled. "I'm not naming the horse ‘Fuck’-"

"No." Geralt tugged on Aiden's sleeve and Aiden turned his head to look. He raised his brows and tilted his head before a smile broke out on his face. Geralt unsheathed his sword.

"Drowners." Aiden pulled his silver sword from his back but Geralt stopped him.

"You're not ready yet." Geralt asserted and Aiden glared at the man's profile.

"Fuck I'm not, Geralt. I just killed three men-"

"Not ready."

Geralt moved forward, leaving Aiden standing beneath the trees with his sword in hand. The two drowners were mulling about at the riverbank but a few moments and three slashes of Geralt's blade later, they had fallen back into the waters and were carried down the river. Aiden marvelled at how stunning Geralt had looked with the pink light dancing off his white skin, his ashen hair forming a stunning arch around his shoulders as he moved. Aiden clapped slowly as Geralt turned. Sheathing his sword, he strolled back up the riverbank to where Aiden was standing.

"Well done, truly,” he extolled. “Now tell me again why I couldn't have helped?"

"I didn't need it." Geralt answered.

"No, no you didn't." Aiden rolled his eyes. He unsaddled the mare and his own horse, before Geralt began looking for firewood. Aiden followed suit and the two Witchers fell into a familiar routine.

“Didn’t we camp just a few miles west of here during The Trial of The Mountains?” Aiden asked, frowning through the dappled tree trunks surrounding them to the west. “We may be able to find that campsite again if we look hard enough.”

“Yes,” Geralt replied as he lifted an armful of logs. Yellow eyes met blue and Aiden shuddered under the the other Witcher’s fervent gaze.

“Would you like to find it again?”

Aiden took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. “I don’t have the time, I need to catch up with Letho before he leaves Vizima.” Aiden’s frown turned into a small smile. “Then you remember me saving you.”

“More than once,” Geralt responded, his voice softening and Aiden heaved a soft sigh and went to find more wood. Aiden shying from Geralt’s sudden intensity.

When the fire was built, Aiden finally had enough with being covered in blood. The blond-haired Witcher sat on the fallen tree and began tearing at his laces, stripping himself of his boots and tossing them aside. Then, he stood up and began pulling at the ties of his armour.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he felt heat radiating of Geralt's form begin to seep into his skin. He turned his head slightly, just enough to see Geralt was standing behind him. Before he could speak, deft fingers touched his as Geralt began to help with the ties. He'd done so before, but this time felt different; Geralt was much closer, nearly too close.

Aiden's throat went dry and he had to force himself to swallow when Geralt took one step closer, his chest and arms now encasing Aiden in a strong, firm hold as Geralt slid the first layer of leather armour from his chest. Aiden closed his eyes when his shirt was pulled over his head.

"Geralt-" Aiden started but Geralt interrupted him.

"You kissed me the night before the final mutation."

Aiden released a shaky breath. "I-I thought you were going to die." While not entirely false, he knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

"I didn't." The rough timbre of Geralt's voice rolled over him and he shivered.

When he opened his eyes again, Geralt had moved in front of him, still unbearably close. Aiden reached up and fought with the ties of Geralt's armour. He kept his hands busy, desperately trying to think of something, anything that did not include pulling Geralt even closer and into another kiss.

Swallowing, he whispered, "We were drunk." Excuses, he was making excuses.

Geralt took both of his hands, halting his movements. "Are you saying that it was not as it seemed?"

"No, I-I’m not." Aiden's voice cracked.

"Then what is it?" Geralt forced Aiden to meet his gaze, those yellow eyes holding Aiden's.

"Fuck," Aiden whispered and swallowed again, his tongue flicking over his lips, which felt dryer than desert sand. Aiden bit back a whimper when those yellow eyes dropped to his lips.

"Is that what you'd like?" Aiden glared up at him and Geralt smirked ever so slightly.

Wrenching his hands free, Aiden dropped Geralt's armour, as well as his shirt to the ground, creating a pile of sticky and bloodsoaked clothing in the dirt. He froze, looking over every inch of Geralt's perfectly muscled chest for what felt like the first time. He dropped his hands down to the seam of Geralt's pants, his left curling around the belt while the other sank further. What he found there was more than enough to encourage him.

"Yes," he managed, his soft lips forming into a gentle yet mischievous smile. "But we both stink of copper,"

"Then the river is not far." Geralt stepped back and Aiden groaned as the cooling night air hit his skin, Geralt's heat leaving him.

"You're actually going to bathe... without protest?" Aiden asked, his eyes widening.

"Aiden..." Geralt warned and the blond Witcher chuckled.

Aiden followed Geralt, his eyes firmly on Geralt’s body as they moved. Geralt stopped when the waters of the river licked at his ankles and Aiden stepped closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s torso as his hands found the laces for Geralt's pants. When Geralt made no move to stop him, he shimmied the tight leather over Geralt's hips and down his perfect ass. Then, he curled his fingers against his palms, feeling nervous to touch further. He fought back his uncertainty, unfurled his fingers, and ran them along Geralt's hips, then down to his soft curls and hard cock. Aiden wrapped a hand around the base and stroked upwards, his thumb playing along the vein before he swirled it over the head.

Aiden rested his lips against Geralt's shoulder, his eyes closing as the same butterflies he'd felt the night of the final mutation returned to his belly. He stroked Geralt again, his hand slightly lubricated by Geralt's pre-come as he continued. Pressing kisses to Geralt’s smooth skin, Aiden tasted salt and blood. He flicked his tongue over the hard tendon in his shoulder, before biting down on the white flesh, sinking his teeth into the muscle.

Not a second later, Geralt had spun around and taken Aiden by the hips; he sat them both on the sand of the riverbed, and pulled Aiden into his lap. Geralt could no doubt feel Aiden's leather-clad erection and he seemed intent on getting access to it. The seams of Aiden's pants ripped as frustrated hands yanked at the leather until they made it down his hips.

Finally both Witchers were naked in the mud. Aiden's wound was still bleeding between Geralt's fingers as he explored his body, but neither man cared as their lips met in a frantic and needy kiss.

There was nothing left to say as Geralt rocked into Aiden, their moans joining the singing crickets and the gushing of the raging river. Their embrace was not quick or painless; Aiden met each of Geralt's thrusts; his nails drawing long, red lines into the white skin on Geralt's back while Geralt’s hands gripped Aiden's pale hips hard enough to bruise.


	2. The Hellhound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

The chirping of crickets blended with the crackling fire and rushing river. Aiden smirked as he stared up at the stars and full moon. He felt as if he were drifting, his body satiated and humming with the pleasure Geralt had given and taken. Both Aiden and Geralt were quiet as they lay beside one another. They revelled in what they had just experienced together.

Eventually, Aiden spoke, "I'm glad we broke those swords."

Geralt chuckled, the sound left Aiden breathless, "Is that why you're here?"

"Yes, Vesemir thought it apt that I will be the one to deliver the mare he lost to Letho." Aiden turned his head to look at Geralt's profile which was bathed in moonlight, giving Geralt an ethereal glow. Aiden allowed his eyes to drift lower and lower; the blond Witcher admiring his new lover. "I also have a contract for you."

"Hmm." Geralt opened his eyes and turned his head, his gaze also moving down Aiden's naked form. He frowned when he found the blood seeping from Aiden's bruised ribs. "Did I do that as well?"

"No, one of the four that ran surprised me-"

"Your entire rib cage is bruised, Aiden." Geralt frowned deeply, his concern shining in his eyes. Geralt sat up and reached for his saddlebag and pulled a wad of bandages and a vial of swallow from deep within.

Aiden smirked and sat up as well. "You weren't pulling your punches the night of the mutations. I was lucky only the swords broke."

"It looks like I did break a few ribs," Geralt's seriousness warmed Aiden. He reached for the bandages but Geralt handed him the swallow instead before using both hands to unravel the white bandages. Aiden drank the potion but it did little to stop the seething wound.

"Maybe you did break a few ribs," Aiden muttered as Geralt wrapped his ribs with the bandages.

"The swallow isn't healing the stab wound... How hard did I hit you?" Geralt asked and Aiden raised a brow before he chuckled.

"You don't remember?" Aiden shuddered as Geralt leaned in close to fasten the bandages around his chest.

"I should never have touched that mandrake moonshine." Geralt looked over Aiden, checking his work with the bandages before he lay back down once more. "Not after watching Vesemir lose that round of Gwent."

"We wouldn't have sparred without the moonshine... Nor would I have kissed you," Aiden said as he lay back.

"I shouldn't have hurt you." Geralt seemed genuinely upset, leaving Aiden feeling torn. Silence descended once more and Aiden took a deep breath. His mind floated toward the events of that evening, to Geralt's touch and how his hands had marked Aiden's skin. Then he remembered the woman and how she had vomited. The death of the teenage boy suddenly tore at his good mood. A long silence followed.

"We're monsters to the rest of the world," Aiden whispered and the stars swam as his eyes clouded. "I had to kill a boy today, he was no more than sixteen, Geralt."

"He attacked you."

"Because everyone else finds us repulsive," Aiden whispered.

“They played with fire and they got burnt,” Geralt turned to lie on his side, facing Aiden. "This is who we are now, monster slayers and they were monsters... Well me at least. You still have to undergo the mutations.”

Aiden shrugged and closed his eyes. Geralt lay back and Aiden felt himself drifting, “Then I die...” Aiden smiled serenely.

“If I could prevent that-”

“You can’t,” Aiden snapped quietly and shook his head. He did not want Geralt to finish his sentence, he did not want his fluttering heart to beat any faster or his belly to twist even tighter.

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

There was a painfully long pause. “Goodnight, Aiden.” 

* * *

Year 1231 (Near Blaviken)

A soft cool breeze rustled Aiden’s hair as he sat on his knees in the middle of an abandoned field just outside of a small village which stood, tiny and quaint, just behind him. Aiden allowed his fingers to run over the oiled steel of his sword then reached into his pocket and swallowed the contents. When he opened his eyes they’d turned black as the thunderbolt moved through his body.

The long, browned grass caught fire in a perfect and tight circle around Aiden. Aiden stood and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The black creature that stepped into the flaming circle emanated red smoke and was illuminated by a crimson light that radiated from nothing natural. Like he had suspected, it was a Hellhound. Aiden took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, he’d need another thunderbolt for this fight. He swallowed the potion and black veins formed around his eyes and streaked down his cheekbones and cheeks.

The Witcher smiled and the Hellhound growled, the creature gnashing its teeth with each step as it advanced on Aiden. The light intensified and three green ethereal shadows began to form not three feet behind the Hellhound. Aiden stepped forward, bringing his sword up before him. Red eyes met black, the land between them becoming no man’s land for just a second, they were intelligent creatures and the Hellhound knew it would have to go through Aiden before it could continue terrorising the village from then on out.

“Come on fucker-” Aiden hissed and took the first step, pirouetting but just as his sword was about to land against the Hellhound’s chest, it was met the shoulder of one of the green Berghests that the Hellhound just summoned instead. The creature yelped and squealed but his blade barely drew blood. Aiden leapt backwards and rolled, barely avoiding the creature’s four inch nails as it turned around on him and took a swipe at his belly.

Aiden straightened up and drew his silver blade, dropping his steel blade. He had no time to oil the silver sword, not having expected the Hellhound to summon Berghests, it was his own fault for not paying enough attention to Vesemir. The first Berghest to his left charged him, and Aiden twirled his blade, the Barghest biting down on the horizontal blade. Aiden then twisted his sword and stepped forward, dragging his blade through the dog’s mouth and through the back of it’s head.

The creature fell and the next Barghest loped forward and began to run at Aiden from behind. Aiden pirouetted around and deadly claws landed against his chest and tore downwards as the Witcher stepped backwards in an attempt to free himself from the claws. The dog fell downwards, tearing vertical gashes through his chest armour, exposing his skin to the stifling heat that was now radiating from the surrounding fire which was spreading rapidly with the evening wind.

He hissed and the Berghest tried to lunge at him again, it’s maw lolling open as it growled, but Aiden was ready this time and he pivoted to the side, slashing his silver blade along the side of the creature, drawing a long line of green blood on the dog from shoulder to tail. The whine that sounded from the creature’s mouth hurt Aiden’s ears but he smiled regardless; he just had two more to kill now.

This time, the Hellhound jumped out of the fiery blaze to Aiden’s left, catching him by complete surprise. The Witcher just managed to bring his arm up to keep the hound’s teeth from sinking into his jugular, but this meant that those same teeth sank into his arm down to the bone. Aiden cried out, his boots sliding back in the dry grass as he struggled to cope with the pain and keep the hound from knocking him off his feet.

Aiden steeled himself and spun around, the hound’s teeth tearing into muscle but the momentum threw the creature off. He screamed, but the next Barghest was charging him. Aiden lifted his blade in his uninjured arm and threw it, hard. The blade found its mark square in the eye of the creature and Aiden breathed a sigh of relief.

Aiden faltered and whimpered, stumbling a few feet back. He stopped to look around him. The fire was burning hot, and his arm was bleeding out fast. The Witcher shuddered, turning to see the Hellhound had begun to glow brighter, the creature summoning more Berghests from the pits of hell.

The blond gave a cry and thrust his arm back into the circle of fire, cauterising the wound and stopping the bleeding. The Witcher took that moment to look around, seeing that the fire had spread and that the town was beginning to burn. He had bigger problems however, more Berghests would kill him. 

“Fucking hell,” He grunted, flexing his fist on the arm that had been torn to bits. His fingers curled still so he took a deep breath and looked around for his steel sword. He’d dropped it not far from where he stood but the Witcher had tired, he was in pain and the Hellhound was almost finished it’s summon spell.

Aiden dove towards his sword, snatching it up with his uninjured arm before he rolled and stood, breathing heavily. He charged, coming nearly nose to nose with the Hellhound before he beared heavily downward and slid underneath the beast, slicing it from sternum to groin with his sword. The hound let out a ear shattering howl before it dissipated into dust above his head.

Screams, he could hear screams and shouts, as he stood and the village burned. With the Hellhound gone, the source of the fire had now been extinguished but wooden huts and buildings had already caught aflame. Aiden did nothing except pick up both his swords and sheath them on his back until he saw a small figure with a red hair tie in her blond locks being slowly cornered by the fire in what looked like what was left of the side of the stable.

A man ran up him, covered in soot and light burns, carrying a pail of water. “Witcher! If you want help finding your friend-”  
  
“Help save the town, I know- fuck!” Aiden growled and pulled two vials of swallow from his breast pocket and swallowed the contents of them both. He broke out into a run then, going to save the little girl who needed rescuing in the stable.


	3. First Kisses

Years ago

The fire crackled and simmered between the glowing logs as Aiden of Skellige stoked the flames. Cicadas, laughter and drunken yelling filled the air as Witchers from all schools gathered in Kaer Morhen for a night of frivolities before a selection of trainees from The School of The Wolf would go on to do their trials the next morning. It was a celebration and an event of mourning, a form of goodbye and a form of welcome. A welcome to a life of monster hunting and being forever on the road and a mourning for those who would not make it through 

Geralt of Rivia was one of those trainees, and that prospect made a young Aiden's heart skip several beats and his breath catch in his throat. So he sat by the fire, quiet in his anxiety and preemptive pain, while everyone else partied like it was their last night on earth. What surprised him a moment later though was Geralt who sat down beside him on the stone bench. A hand curled around his neck as Geralt pulled him into a half hug and they sat there for a long moment before the older Witcher spoke.

"Don't look so glum over there," Geralt said and handed Aiden the cup that he was holding. "Aiden-"

"I'm not glum, I'm just-" Aiden sipped the liquid in the cup.

"Oh gods, moonshine?" He gasped, inhaling the liquid he had yet to swallow. The young man rasped and coughed.

"Letho brought it," Geralt laughed and released Aiden from their embrace, patting Aiden on the back as the blond composed himself. Aiden drank more from the cup as his heart began racing once again from Geralt’s touch. Aiden glanced back to where Letho was, sat, hunched over and stern, with Vesemir. They were playing Gwent around a small table beside another roaring fire.

“Of course he did,” Aiden managed, his blue eyes moving back to Geralt. “Aren’t you nervous?” He asked gently, thankful that Geralt was no longer touching him. Aiden didn’t expect a genuine answer but it didn’t hurt to ask. As expected he got a sideways glance and a small smile as the two descended into silence.

Aiden handed Geralt the cup of moonshine back and stood to go get his own before he returned and took a long sip, the drink moving through his veins, his head beginning to swim. He could hear Vesemir cursing from behind them and the blond witcher smiled. Not a moment later Vesimir sat down before them at the fire, the old Witcher warming his hands against the fire with a grimace plastered on his face.

“I’m guessing Letho won?” Geralt asked and Aiden hid his grin behind his cup. Vesemir glared heavily at Geralt.

“Motherfucker-” Aiden let out a low chuckle, “He did!” Aiden exclaimed and let out a belly laugh.

“You shouldn’t be laughing, little shite,” Vesemir growled and Aiden snorted, nearly spilling his drink.

“I’m no little shite anymore, old man!” Aiden grumbled as Vesemir looked him over, he could feel Geralt’s gaze on him too.

“No- not little anymore but still a shite,” Vesemir suddenly got a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked between Geralt and Aiden.  
  
“Oh fuck-” Aiden whispered under his breath.   
  
“Say you two, how about a sparring match?”   
  
“So you can earn back some of the orens you just lost?” Aiden smirked and Geralt chuckled.   
  
“So we can finally see if you’ve learnt a thing or two from Geralt, or if the protege is better than the teacher?” Geralt scoffed and Aiden gave Vesemir a dark glare.

“Fine,” Geralt stood and Aiden’s eyes widened, his mouth agape.   
  
“You’re humouring this shit?” Aiden exclaimed and scrambled to stand as well. Vesemir drew his steel blade and so did Geralt. Aiden found Vesemir’s sword thrust into his hand not a second later.

Vesemir stood and announced their battle and not a second later a ring of people had surrounded them. Aiden weighed Vesemir’s sword in his hand and whirled it around in his palm, his fingers dancing deftly over the hilt. He looked to Geralt who stood at the ready and Aiden grinned at his mentor.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Aiden was acutely aware of the size difference between him and Geralt, the fact that the sword was heavier in his hand than it would be in Geralt’s. The younger blond took a deep breath and stepped forward. 

Geralt lunged forward, sword slicing through the air. Aiden dodged the oncoming blade, swiveling his hips and stepping backwards. He swung around, coming up behind Geralt and drew his blade upwards. Geralt twirled his sword around behind his back, blocking Aiden’s sword.

Aiden jumped back and Geralt pirouetted around, slashing at Aiden’s face but Aiden dodged the blade once more. The crowd had begun to cheer, Aiden brought his sword up and Geralt moved forward.

Their swords clashed between them, but Aiden slid his sword down, bringing it down across the back of Geralt’s forearm, slashing a shallow gash into the soon to be White Wolf’s flesh.   
  
“Fuck!” Geralt hissed and shoved Aiden backwards, causing the blond to stumble in the wet muck that was the castle grounds. Geralt took that moment to lunge forward, bringing his sword up once more.

Aiden’s left foot slipped in the mud and he stumbled down onto one knee. He pulled a dagger from his belt and brought both blades up to counter Geralt’s sword which beared down on him in an instant.   
  
“Shit-” Aiden growled as he strained beneath the larger man’s weight, the blond slowly managing to push Geralt back. The moment their swords disconnected Aiden ducked down, Geralt’s blade just barely missing his cheek. Aiden brought his leg around, slamming his boot into Geralt’s own then jumped back onto his feet just as Geralt hit the ground.

Aiden backed away, heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Geralt recovered quickly and threw his sword directly at Aiden’s chest. Aiden deflected the oncoming sword, the sound of steel slamming into steel rang out and Aiden gasped as Vesemir’s sword broke and Geralt’s blade clattered to the ground.

Aiden glanced over at Vesemir, who looked none too happy but did nothing to stop the fight. He dropped the broken sword and gripped his dagger tightly. Geralt was on his feet already and Aiden heaved a sigh, curling his hands into fists.

Aiden rushed Geralt, bringing his dagger up but Geralt grabbed his wrist and slammed a punch directly into Aiden’s solar plexus, winding the blond but Aiden retaliated by grabbing Geralt by the shirt and slamming his head into Geralt’s nose. The blow sent Geralt stumbling back, the man letting Aiden’s hand go but he swung at Aiden again and Aiden dodged, pirouetting out of the man’s reach once more.

Geralt touched his bleeding nose as their eyes locked. Geralt stepped forward again and brought his fist up, catching Aiden in the jaw but the blond landed his own blow in the older man’s ribs. Geralt grabbed Aiden around the neck and pulled the blond forward under his arm. Geralt brought his knee up and slammed it into Aiden’s ribs thrice. Aiden felt ribs crack and he fell to his knees, his palms sinking into mud as he struggled to breathe.

Geralt stepped back, thinking the fight was over but Aiden curled his fingers around his dagger and slashed upwards, catching the man’s inner thigh with the sharp edge of the blade.

Geralt groaned but Aiden stood, slicing at Geralt’s inner elbow. Aiden rushed the man, his dagger at Geralt’s throat but Geralt grabbed the blade, slicing his palm, and pulled it from Aiden’s grasp, turned them both around and shoved Aiden against the wall of the castle, the blade now at Aiden’s throat. Their bodies met and Aiden gasped, his mind immediately drawn from the fight and into the close proximity of the older man.

“Give up, we’re done,” Geralt growled, and Aiden swallowed hard. Eventually he nodded and Geralt signaled the end of the fight by dropping the dagger. The crowd cheered and Aiden struggled to breathe as Geralt’s warmth seeped into his skin through his mud soaked clothing. 

Vesemir approached them and Geralt pulled away from Aiden. “Well done, both of you, now go wash up.”

Aiden stared as Geralt stepped away before he doubled over and wheezed, feeling the pain in his ribs once again now that the adrenaline had worn off. When he looked up again he saw a hand, oozing and covered in blood offered to him. He took that hand and steadied himself. 

“Fuck...” He groaned and Geralt smiled faintly at him.

“Come on,” Geralt pulled Aiden gently towards the fire once more. Both men sat and Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, still remembering what it felt like to feel Geralt pressed against him. Once Vesemir finished collecting his money, he came over to both of them with another bottle of moonshine. 

“You did good kid,” The old Witcher said with a smirk and Aiden just shook his head. “Why don’t you both head over to the infirmary?” He suggested but Geralt was already pouring two more cups of moonshine for the both of them. 

“We will, for now-” Aiden took the cup shoved in his direction and Geralt drank deeply from his own cup. “We drink.”

An hour later and two bottles of moonshine later, Geralt and Aiden stood on unsteady feet by the dying fire and made their way quietly to the infirmary. Once there, Aiden tossed the bottle of alcoholest to Geralt before he grabbed the bandages, a wash cloth and some water. Gently and without a word, Aiden began cleaning the wounds he’d inflicted with his dagger upon Geralt.

“I’m sorry-” His words were slurred, and Geralt just chuckled.  
  
“It was Vesemir’s idea,”

“Yes, but I didn’t have to use the dagger-” Geralt quietened and Aiden sighed. He finished bandaging Geralt’s hand and moved on to cleaning the gash on Geralt’s forearm, his fingers deft yet rough with calluses. Touching Geralt’s skin sent shivers down Aiden’s spine but he ignored the feeling and instead focused on the work before him.

“Aiden-”

“Hmm-” Aiden looked up to see Geralt smiling at him. “What?”

“You did well,” Aiden blushed and he reached up to wipe the blood from Geralt’s nose.

“Thank you,” He whispered and sighed as he dropped the cloth back into the bucket. He looked over Geralt as silence descended upon them and reached forward, cupping Geralt’s bruised cheek. He leaned in and touched their noses together gently, the alcohol in his blood telling him this was alright. Geralt closed the distance between them but hesitated for just a moment.

“Is this okay?” Aiden asked gently and Geralt nodded slowly then Aiden closed the distance between them and kissed Geralt hard.


	4. Blades and Blood

Present (Year 1231)

The town was falling, beams and roofs collapsing as fire ate at every building, spreading faster than the raging storm that had begun to swirl in the sky. Aiden heard screaming in every direction, and he prayed for the rain to begin falling because they were losing the battle against the fire. The bucket of water in his hand, which was barely able to curl around the handle due to the fresh Hellhound bite, was useless now. Instead he focused on using signs to free trapped survivors from the infernos that their homes had now become.

Currently he stood, staring at the ground as he did his best to listen for the survivors trapped in their homes, using his Witcher senses to determine where the people were. He heard a call for help to his right and instantly turned on his heel and ran, following the sound until he arrived before a tiny hut. He grabbed for the door handle and pushed but the door refused to budge, debris having fallen behind it.

“Stand back! Stand back!” He shouted and cast Aard which blew the door open. A woman screamed and Aiden grimaced as he saw a young boy had been blown back from the blast of the spell despite his warnings.

Aiden made his way into the house as an elderly woman and three children ran out of the hut and picked up the unconscious boy with his uninjured arm and threw him over his shoulder. Once out the hut he laid the boy down in the dirt and quickly checked if the child was still breathing. Aiden looked up at the family and nodded, confirming that the child was alive before he picked him up once more and raced towards the opposite end of the village where the road was still safe.

Placing the boy back down, Aiden stood and looked around noting all the faces around him, half of which he’d saved, looking wearily back at him.

“Is there anyone else?” Aiden asked gruffly and couldn’t hold back the pained sigh when a young boy put up his hand.  
  
“Yes, sir. M-my dog, Charlotte, she’s trapped sir!” The boy said, and Aiden closed his eyes once more, listening for the dog. He heard nothing. 

“Sorry kid-”  
  
“She’s really old, usually sleeps in the barn! I- I’ll show you!” The boy took off running back into the burning village and Aiden took off running as well.

“Hey kid-” Aiden shouted but they quickly came to a stop before what was the barn.

“In there!” Sure enough, Aiden could hear soft whimpers from inside. He reached forward and pushed the door open, only to have the kid run inside from under his arm.

“Oh fuck!” Aiden said just as the door collapsed and sent him barreling forward, stumbling into the burning building. Aiden slammed into the back wall, his wounded arm stretched out first to break his fall. He cried out as bones cracked beneath his considerable weight and the wood gave out, impaling his arm in a ragged hole in the wall. Aiden tried to pull back but his arm was trapped.

“Kid!” Aiden called, coughing as smoke seeped into his lungs and he searched through the black smoke for the child and his dog. A few long moments later the boy emerged with his dog cradled in his arms, she was alright.  
  
“Just hold on mister, I’ll get help!” The kid shouted and ran through the door, leaving Aiden. Aiden groaned and looked back at his arm which was trapped at the elbow. He growled and tried desperately to pull free but the wood scraped against the open wound and Aiden let out a groan.

He coughed once again, and blinked his eyes which were watering now, and slammed his fist into the jagged piece of wood keeping his arm trapped. He screamed as it cracked beneath the pressure and embedded itself into his flesh but his arm was free.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief, only to start coughing again. He stood and was about to turn when a beam from the ceiling fell and descended upon him, knocking him out.

* * *

Aiden moaned, waking slowly from unconsciousness in what felt like a soft bed. As he opened his eyes he saw his arm was bandaged and he had further bandages running up his left thigh and chest. The Witcher laid his head back down on the pillow and groaned, closing his eyes once more as he tried to remember his dream through the pain of the burns and wounds that the Hellhound had inflicted.

_“Is this okay?” Aiden asked gently and Geralt nodded slowly then Aiden closed the distance between them and kissed Geralt hard._

_They kissed for what seemed like forever for Aiden, chapped lips, teeth and tongues meeting. Aiden took a deep breath and groaned as he smelt the moonshine on their breaths. Eventually Geralt pulled away and slowly began tightening the knot Aiden had made to secure the bandages. Neither man said another word, both just finishing cleaning up and making their way back to the party._

Aiden whimpered as the scene changed again to them at the camp, when Geralt and him had kissed once more. Geralt was thrusting into him, but the image was quickly dispelled by a young elven medic who opened the door to the small room Aiden was in, letting in the sounds of a lively tavern into the once quiet room. The elven medic knelt down before Aiden could speak and began changing the bloody bandages. Aiden was naked save for a white pair of underwear.

“Where am I?” He asked and looked over himself. “How long have I been out for?”

“Three days and you’re in Blaviken, we were the only establishment that would take you.” Aiden frowned deeply, not understanding.

“The town?”  
  
“Gone but you managed to get everyone out safely. Which is why you’re here. Stregobor wishes to see you.” Aiden looked down at his arm, which was coated in a viscous black substance, once the bandages were removed, he’d already begun to heal and could move his hand freely.

“What did you use?” He asked, his eyes finding the young man’s.  
  
“A remedy Stregobor suggested.”

“Why does he want to see me?” 

“He has a contract for you,” Aiden swallowed hard.  
  
“The man in the town that burned down, he said that another Witcher, had come through, I wanted to know if he’d headed to Blaviken-”  
  
“Oh yes, he came to Blaviken, the white haired Witcher...” Those eyes moved over him. “You look just like him,”  
  
“We underwent the same mutations...” Aiden tilted his head and truly looked at the young man. He had blond hair which reached his shoulders and piercing green eyes. “You’re a mage-” 

“Yes-.”

“Why are you here and not at Ban-Ard or in high court?” Aiden asked.  
  
“Because Stregobor wanted me to hunt down and kill the Witcher Geralt of Rivia... Who I am assuming you’re looking for-” Aiden nodded and green eyes met Aiden’s.  
  
“He’ll want you to join me,”

“I’ll kill him first,” Aiden growled and sat up slowly.  
  
“Not in this state, you’re not, you need to rest.” Aiden rolled his eyes but he lay back down. Aiden paused for a long moment before he spoke again.  
  
“Geralt, which direction did he head in when he left?”

“I’d say he was headed towards Kaer Morhen,”  
  
“What’s your name?” He asked before he looked around for his things. Next to him on a table lay his swords, his dagger and a filled coin pouch.

“Rilenet of Aedirn,” The man said and Aiden nodded, he’d woken fully now. Rilenet stood.

“Send in one of the girls, would you, on your way out? I’ll leave in the morning.” Aiden groaned as he turned to dig in his saddlebag, he found the swallow and downed it.  
  
“That’s not exactly rest... Are you going to see Stregobor?”  
  
“No, unless you want him dead,”

The mage nodded slowly and backed out of the room, leaving Aiden alone. Aiden sighed and sat up in the bed. He heard a scuffling and a young woman was shoved, half naked into his room, a terrified expression on her face. The door slammed shut and the blond Witcher rolled his eyes, sighing. He stood and moved over to her and pulled her shirt up gently.

“Get out of here,” He said, “No point fucking someone scared of me...” 

“No- no- I-” Aiden raised his brows at her and she pulled a trembling hand from behind her back, in it was a knife. “Th- they asked me to kill you-” 

“Well fuck,” Aiden sighed even harder and locked the door behind her. “That’s smart of them.” 

The woman dropped the knife and Aiden kicked it under the cupboard. He returned to the bed and lay back, his blond hair spilling over the bed, before turning to look at her. “How many of them out there?” He asked, blue eyes meeting a deep pair of brown eyes.

“Five,” She replied and he raised a brow.

“And the mage?”

“Locked out, they’ve barred the door.” Aiden nodded and patted the bed beside him.

“What’s your name?” He asked as she sat down, her eyes moving over every bandage and scar on his body. 

“Nimola,”  
  
“That’s a lovely name... Are you comfortable enough?” He asked and she turned back to look nervously at the door. “They’re not barging in just yet, I promise you.” Aiden reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers shaking slightly as he raised his battered arm.  
  
“You don’t frighten me but they do-” Nimola murmured and Aiden hummed, nodding.

“Is there any one of them in particular that you’d like me to kill?”

“We’ve had enough blood shed-”  
  
“They’re going to try to kill me, Nimola, that’s the reality of the situation, there will be more bloodshed, but it won’t be my blood,” Aiden smiled then, cupping her cheek. “I’d just like a really good fuck before I have to do it,”

Nimola considered what he said before she nodded. “The big, fat one, at the back. He won’t be swinging an axe or a sword at you, he just swings his fists at us.”

Aiden nodded and pulled her down for a hard kiss. “You have my word.” He murmured against her mouth before he kissed her again sweetly this time. Aiden shifted her so that she was above him, her legs wrapped firmly around his hips. His hands found the ties of her dress. He undid them then swiftly cupped both her breasts in his hands as the material fell around her knees.

Nimola rolled her hips, grinding against Aiden’s underwear and making him hard. Aiden groaned and rolled her nipples between his fingertips before he slid his hands down further, over her ribcage. He placed one hand on her hip and ran the other down further until he felt her soft folds nestled against his finger tips, he rubbed gently, teasing her slit gently and gathering her juices.

Aiden thrust two fingers inside Nimola, the woman moaning, and pulled back out before he seated them back firmly insider her then flipped her over onto her back, the Witcher burying his face in her chest, kissing and nipping her left nipple before he moved back down her body, this time with his lips and tongue. He spread her thighs with his hands just before he reached the flame red bush between her thighs.  
  
Aiden spread her lips apart with his fingers and licked her from her entrance to her clit and then back down before he began sucking on her sensitive bud, his eyes closing as he listened to her moans and the quiet murmuring of the men outside his door. No one was coming in yet so he enjoyed her, sucking and licking, tasting her. Nimola’s hands having threaded in his long hair, pulling.

He hummed against her clit then when he was satisfied that she was wet enough he thrust two fingers inside her once more, drawing them in and out while curling them. Her moans rose but he reached up to silence her, a gentle finger placed against her lips. He looked up from between her thighs.  
  
“Quiet now, we need them to think you are actually succeeding in killing me.” He said with a smirk. Nimola threw her head back and nodded, swallowing hard and Aiden’s smirk turned into a grin.  
  
“That’s it sweet girl.” He murmured and went back to sucking on her clit and curling his fingers inside her, thrusting them in and out until she tightened around them and came, her moans muffled by her own hand.

Aiden nodded and kept working his fingers in and out of her, coaxing her to another orgasm before he moved up and pulled his underwear down, revealing his hard cock. He stroked it gently, wetting it with her juices before he thrust into her, tip to hilt. Her breasts bounced as he groaned, his eyes transfixed on them as he buried his cock in her over and over.

He came with her, filling her then pulled out, watching as his seed dripped from her body before he looked her over again for the last time, her body drenched in sweat. He pulled up his underwear, he’d heard some ruckus from behind the door, and quickly began putting on his armour.

Nimola was still catching her breath while he moved swiftly, his injuries hindering him but not to a great extent. Once dressed, he sheathed his swords and was about to put his dagger in his boot when he heard the door crashing open, the lock breaking.  
  
Aiden threw the dagger, impaling the man who came through in the chest and drew his steel sword. Nimola screamed and Aiden turned.  
  
“Hush, stay behind me,” He said gently over his shoulder just as another man rushed him with a hatchet in hand. Aiden sighed, and lunged forward, deflecting the hatchet with his sword before he pirouetted around behind the man and cut through ribs and spine, slicing him in half.

Aiden turned then, the next came in with a crossbow aimed at Aiden. He fired an arrow and Aiden dodged, stepping to the left before he brought his sword up to his chest and charged forward while the man reloaded, the Witcher driving his blade into breast bone. He pulled his sword down and disemboweled the townsman.

Another arrow was shot from behind the bar, and Aiden was quick to shut the door just as it embedded itself in the wood. He took that moment to retrieve his dagger and knelt behind the door, listening with his eyes closed.

When he heard the sound of footsteps rounding the bar Aiden opened the door and threw his dagger, embedding the blade between now dead eyes. The Witcher stood, closing the door once more and glanced back at Nimola who was still in bed, her eyes wide in shock.  
  
“Two more darling,” Aiden drew his silver blade and yanked the door open, diving forward, rolling with both his swords tucked under his arms. When he stood Aiden turned to his right, the last bandit trying to swing his sword but Aiden was faster, slicing clean through his arm with the silver blade then he drew his steel blade through the man’s neck, beheading him.

Silence filled the tavern but he heard one more, the one Nimola spoke of, at the back, panicking and hiding behind the door to the pantry. Aiden stepped forward and made his way silently to the door before he slammed his shoulder into it, breaking it open and throwing the man backwards into a long table. Aiden advanced while the man crawled backwards.  
  
“No- no, no-”  
  
“Yes, yes and yes,” The Witcher said before he cut the man from sternum to throat. Aiden turned, his eyes finding Nimola who stood at the entrance to the pantry, her eyes on the now dead body. A long moment passed between them before she spoke.

“What’s your name?” 

“Aiden of Skellege,” Aiden answered with a small smile and kissed her cheek as he passed her. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” She whispered but Aiden left coin on the bar nonetheless.

When Aiden exited the tavern he was met with a hoard of townspeople, men and women all staring at him, eyes wide in shock.

“Oh fuck off.” He snapped and they parted like the red sea. Aiden found his horse but was stopped by Rilenet.

“What will you do?” The mage asked. Aiden mounted his stallion.

“I’ll ride to Kaer Morhen, you however, I suggest telling Stregobor that I took the contract. I’ll kill you here if you go after Geralt of Rivia,” All Rilenet did was nod and Aiden kicked gently, his stallion took off in a canter.

* * *

The road to Kaer Morhen took Aiden several weeks, the Witcher riding as many hours as he could without stopping for more than supplies and sleep. He listened for whispers of Geralt during his travel and was sure that the Witcher was indeed on his way to Kaer Morhen.

When Aiden arrived it was dusk. He led his horse to the stables and smiled when he saw Geralt’s mare not two stalls down.

“Geralt...” Aiden whispered under his breath, excitement building in his belly as he strode through the castle grounds and to the castle doors. He pushed them open and the smell of Vesemir’s cooking immediately hit his nose. Aiden sighed, happy to be back.

When he saw Geralt sitting at the dinner table, Aiden couldn’t help but smile. The older Witcher stood, and Aiden walked directly into the man’s arms, both men hugging.

“There you are,” Aiden whispered into Geralt’s ear. Geralt grunted and Aiden smirked. Both men pulled back and Aiden sat down at the table.


End file.
